


one day (this world's gonna end)

by lostinanotherworld24



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Domestic Violence, F/M, Graphic Description, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:34:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23173987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinanotherworld24/pseuds/lostinanotherworld24
Summary: Trapped, Sansa makes a desperate attempt to get out. What she thinks is the end may very well be the beginning, especially when Tyrion gets involved. It turns out he's been looking for a fresh start too, and this may be the perfect opportunity. Will they both find a happy ending?
Relationships: Joffrey Baratheon/Sansa Stark, Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark, Tyrion Lannister/Shae
Kudos: 12





	1. ripple effect

**Author's Note:**

> fic and chapter titles taken from "face down" by red jumpsuit apparatus 
> 
> thank you for reading, and don't forget to leave a review!

Beneath her dangling feet, the waves wildly smash against the cliffs and their roars boom like thunder. Seagulls caw overhead as they suddenly dive towards the blue-grey water, with a sharp jerk upwards at the last possible moment. For a moment Sansa thinks she could be happy to stay forever in this unexpected paradise before a sharp stabbing pain reminds her of her purpose. 

Mottled, hideous bruises mar her torso, while the remnants of fingerprints wrap around her thighs. Deep cuts and shallow scratches decorate her back, and there’s even a sluggishly bleeding bite mark on her left shoulder. A part of her blames herself for not knowing what a monster Joffrey was before they married, while another part of her is too worn to place blame. She’ll never escape him alive, he’s proven that much to be true.

With a wince of pain, she wrenches her arm behind her back, and grabs at the zipper to the stupid dress Joffrey insisted she wears. It’s ugly as sin, but it was the only one that covered every mark he’d left. A couple of quick yanks and she’s divested herself of the dress, leaving it and her shoes in a pile. In simply a bra and panties, with no makeup and no fancy updo, this is who she is in the truest sense. She’ll honor it from now to her last breath.

She closes her eyes tightly and wishes for courage, before backing up a step and sprinting to the edge of the cliff, leaping off into the waters below. 

XXXX

Tyrion wishes his cheeks wouldn’t redden as easily as a damn schoolgirl’s. He’s a 30-year-old man, and yet simply looking at his love causes his skin to imitate a tomato. It’s embarrassing really; he’s just lucky Shae seems to find it endearing.

She’s in the middle of recounting a story from work when she cuts herself off to emit a horrified gasp. He jerks his head up and follows her gaze, only to watch as Sansa Stark plunges off a cliff into the thrashing ocean below. For a second, her head bobs above the water before it disappears.

Shae doesn’t hesitate to break into a full run, with the clear intent being to reach the slice of beach beneath the cliff Sansa tumbled off of. Tyrion stands in amazement as she dives into the ocean, ghost-white arms cutting through the water expertly. Her dark head gets lost for a moment, and he doesn’t exhale until it reappears. Determinedly she paddles her way through the bucking and thrashing waves and utilizes every bit of strength to get herself and Sansa to shore.

The girls collapse in the wet sand at the water’s edge, Shae’s pants for breath thunderous in Tyrion’s ears. He practically flies over to them, and kneels next to Sansa, unsure of himself for maybe the first time. Her lips are blue, and her skin is so white it’s nearly transparent. He holds a hand in front of her mouth and waits for a beat or two, heart sinking when there’s no puff of air.

As hurried as he can he begins the process of CPR, as his thoughts plead with the seven to make her okay. She’s the only one worth liking in his family right now, and he’d hate to see such a bright spot extinguished, particularly if it was because of Joffrey. The seven know dying due to him would be such a waste of death.

After a minute or two of terror, Sansa startles upright, water pouring from her mouth. Gently he moves her onto her side and pointedly doesn’t watch as she coughs up liquid. It’s the gross part that the movies don’t show, and one he has no desire to see in real life. 

Finally, she’s finished and slumps back in the sand. For the first time since the ordeal began, Tyrion takes her in entirely and is horrified by the sight. Clearly, she’s survived more than one beating, and there are no prizes for guessing who is responsible.

He traces one of the bruises and thins his lips at the reflexive jerk away. She’s too exhausted to do much more than give him a flat look and hiss a little as he carefully presses along the outside of one of the deeper markings. It looks extremely painful and must feel unspeakably worse

“I didn’t realize things had gotten so bad,” he intones. Sansa shoots him a look, teeth nibbling at her bottom lip. He feels a little bit stupid for saying that because he’s pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to know. 

“I didn’t jump off that cliff for fun, Tyrion,” she informs him. “No one can control him anymore, not even Cersei. The only way this is going to end is in death, either mine or his. Maybe both,” her voice thins until it’s nearly a whisper, trailing off at the end of her spiel. 

Apparently, it’s Shae’s turn to give him a look now, dark eyes piercing overtop of Sansa’s head. To that, he rolls his eyes, because it’s not like his plan is to sneak away and immediately dial-up his nephew. Of course, he’ll help her in whatever way he can.

They work up a rough outline of a plan, the main portion of which consists of Shae getting Sansa into a hotel and deadbolting the door. Tyrion is to return to the family manor, Casterly Rock, and quietly gather any resources that might help. Money, clothes, even any intel passed along by the elder members of the family. Almost anything might be useful. They just need to get Sansa  _ out. _

It’s a tenuous plan that can’t hold for long, but it’s the best they can do. Hospitals are out of the question entirely, considering Tywin Lannister had the resources to get even an inkling of abuse squashed. Hospital files, x-rays, even possible police reports could all be made to go away, leaving Sansa in an extremely precarious position. And Tyrion doesn’t intend to see if her prediction would come true.

_(In his heart, there’s a genuine stab of true fear, because he knows Joffrey’s cruelty in the same way he knows his own hand. His face didn’t acquire a mangled scar all on its own, and he’s not interested in seeing what Sansa might look like with a similar one. No, he has to get her away, the way he couldn’t for himself. The way he still can’t.)_

As he stands and watches Shae shepherd Sansa into the passenger seat of her jeep, all he can do is pray to the seven they’ll all make it out of this alive. 


	2. you cry alone (he swears he loves you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> leaving the cage is never as easy as it seems, especially when the cage has gilded bars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading, and don't forget to leave a review!

Shae’s well aware of the fact they don’t have the luxury of choice in lodgings, but she still can’t help the slight wrinkling of her nose upon entering the room. As a former escort, she’s been in numerous hotels, ranging from  _ The President probably uses this as his hookup spot,  _ to  _ well, at least it has a sink.  _ This hotel is definitely on the lower end of the spectrum, starting with the fact the door doesn’t have a lock and going downhill from there.

Sansa’s too drained to really care, evidenced by the way that she immediately crumples onto one of the beds. Her face is drawn with pain, the lines around her eyes deepening with each minute movement. Shae can’t help the sharp pangs of sympathy, because she’s been where Sansa is and it’s never a fun feeling. 

The younger girl falls asleep shortly thereafter, her breathing gradually getting more shallow and her lashes fluttering. In sleep she looks childlike and innocent, porcelain skin mirroring a china doll. She didn't use to carry any of the world-weariness of a girl like Shae, because she used to be a bright-eyed girl in love. Now she’s just a woman who’s seen the man behind the curtain and paid the price dearly.

Shae fights back the flooding of anger as she begins to make lists on what they’ll need; losing her head right now might mean someone losing their life.

XXXX

The hotel room window doesn’t offer much of a view, only offering the buildings next door and the highway beyond. Sansa perches on the edge of her bed and draws one leg up to rest her cheek on her knee. For a second she wishes to be in one of those cars, going somewhere far away from the dingy hotel, from the town that she hates, from her  _ life _ . 

Behind her, the door opens and shuts, accompanied by the soft shuffle of shoes on the carpet and the rustling of plastic bags. Sansa turns and watches as Shae unpacks, shuffling various objects into this or that pile. For a moment the older girl doesn’t acknowledge her before finally shoving some clothes over and flopping down.

“Did you sleep well?”

Sansa murmurs an affirmative. Her body ached bad enough that she’d thought sleep might be difficult, but she’d passed out the minute she shut her eyes. Sure the mattress didn't resemble a cloud like the one at Joffrey’s, but at least here she had the promise of safety. 

Shae grabs a pile of clothes and tosses them to her, along with a bag full of personal necessities. Sansa’s cheeks heat a little at seeing the pads and tampons inside, to which Shae gives a sharp little giggle.

“Tyrion went shopping, and the poor boy didn’t know what to get, so I guess he got a little of everything.”

Sansa huffs a laugh she doesn’t mean, and sets the bag aside before she goes to the window. She looks out at the world that admires her because she snagged Joffrey Baratheon, the world that has no clue how to exist inside hers. Getting out suddenly seems a pipe dream; he’s too attached to her to ever let her slip away. 

“What are we doing here, Shae? He’s never gonna let me go, never gonna stop until he finds me. I’m his, for all it's worth."

Shae leans forward a little and folds her hands. She shakes her head and looks down, pitch-black locks falling to conceal her face. 

“Look at your stomach, Sansa. Look at your  _ thighs.  _ A man isn’t supposed to do that to you. He should be caring for you, protecting you! You’re not his plaything to do with as he wishes,” she stands and crosses her arms. 

“If not me, then who?” Sansa counters, color rising high and fast in her cheeks. “I can take it, okay? When he’s hurting me, at least I can go somewhere until it’s over, pretend like it’s not even happening. What about the next girl? Huh? The next poor soul he latches onto and takes advantage of, what if she can’t take it?”

“Sansa, this is our chance. Mine, yours, Tyrion’s. I don’t know that we’ll ever have a better opportunity, especially with the way Joffrey keeps you under lock and key. We could get out and go somewhere, start over. You just gotta believe that it’s gonna work out.”

Sansa teeters for a moment, the hard truth of Shae’s words undeniable. Her words to Tyrion just a few hours earlier float back into her mind, and she suddenly remembers the way she felt the last time he hurt her, the way she’d believed he was going to kill her right there on their bedroom floor. She tries to imagine a lifetime of those moments, carrying the belief that death is always just a heartbeat away, and feels a piece of her soul crumble at the thought. 

With a definitive nod, a level of resolve she’d never felt before clicks into place. One way or the other, they’ll be getting out for good. 


End file.
